


Blurring the Effect

by OrdinaryRealities



Series: O, Tiger's Heart Wrapped in a Woman's Hide [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Found Family, M/M, Retirement, Russian skating Fam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-06 21:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17353274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrdinaryRealities/pseuds/OrdinaryRealities
Summary: Mila comes to Hasetsu for a month after retiring. Finding love in Hasetsu is getting to be a bit of a trope among the Russian skaters, but Mila still knows a good thing when she sees it.





	1. One: Katsuki Mari

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who haven't read the rest of this series, Yuri Plisetsky and Lilia have just moved to Japan so Yuri can train under Yuuri. Lilia is off in Paris for a month and invited Mila out to visit my OC, her cousin, and stay in Lilia's house (where she boards Yuuri's skaters) while Lilia is away. 
> 
> For those of you who are reading the series, this story takes place during Lilia's Paris trip in the story directly before this one.
> 
> Yeah, so, I'm still a little bit concerned about this trope (that canon started) where all the Russian skaters learn to relax and have a good time and maybe fall in love a little when they go to Hasetsu. However, because it is canon, and because I'm trying to give my characters real reasons for it, I'm going to call it OK for now. I'm white. If you're not, and you feel like this is getting to be exotification, let me know and I'll try and fix it. 
> 
> Also, the age difference. Mila is three years older than Yuri in the show (18 to his 15) so in this story she's 24. Mari doesn't have an age in the show, although the wikia puts her at 30 when Yuuri is 23. I generally think of her as being much older than Yuuri for absolutely no reason (since I only just looked up the wikia age), but for the sake of this ship (brought into being because there aren't enough wlw in this show and I can't figure out how to write Sara Crispino) I'm putting her at only a couple years older than Yuuri, maybe 26 or 27 in the show, which makes her in her early thirties here. I'm still not entirely comfortable with that age difference. If you aren't either, don't read it, you won't offend me at all. (Also according to the wikia Mila has an undercut I never knew about but am delighted by.)
> 
> Finally, I'm white and cis. If I say anything thoughtless, I didn't mean to, let me know so I can fix it and not do it again.

Mari recognized the skater before she turned around. She used to post pictures of Yurio-kun when they’d been rinkmates, which was the only reason why Mari had followed her Instagram in the first place, though she still watched for the other woman’s posts. 

“Mila Babicheva?” She shone brighter than her cousin, with a puckish smirk when she saw Mari.

“Mari Katsuki, right?” She bent to pick up her bags. “I’m glad someone has been giving Yura the hard time he deserves. When I see that boy…” She shook her head and followed Mari. “I can see you’re related to Yuuri. He never knows how to take me either. It’s OK though,” She caught up enough to glint a sideways smile at Mari, “Yura broke me in well. Everyone does better than he did.”

Mari hadn’t been aware that the other woman was looking for a response. “So you follow the Viktor school of communication?”

“What?” Mila looked surprised.

Mari opened the back door of the car for Mila’s bags and explained. “There seem to be two Russian modes of expression. You can be like Viktor, and talk and talk and always hide your thoughts, or you can take after Yurio and Lilia, and never say anything but make your displeasure clear anyway.”

She waited until Mila was done with her bags and then stepped into the driver’s seat, continuing once Mila joined her in the car.

“I never met your old coach, but I always assumed Viktor must have gotten it from him, since from what he and Yurio say Yakov and Lilia parented the lot of you.”

Mila tilted her head back until a bright laugh spilled out. “Yakov didn’t talk, he yelled.” A stray giggle. “I guess that he did yell to hide how much he cared, but I’ve always thought that was where Yura got it from.”

 

Mari had been afraid that the ride back might be awkward. For all that she saw at least one of the Russians every day, she didn’t speak enough Russian to get by if Zhenya’s cousin hadn’t spoken English well. Even assuming that they had a language in common, Mari knew that she put people off-balance. She was always too abrupt for people, skipping over the niceties in her daily life that she needed to observe so closely in customer service. But if she never drew a line then how would she tell her work life and home life apart?

She needn’t have worried. Mila kept up a steady stream of chatter: old gossip about Mari’s brother-in-law was followed by stories about Lilia’s ex-husband which somehow devolved into moralistic fairy-tales that sounded like the Kipling tales that Mari had read in English class. 

“And that’s how Yakov started balding,” a story might end, much as the stories from class had once concluded, “And that’s how leopard got his spots.”

 

By the time that they got to Lilia’s Mari was charmed, enough to grab one of Mila’s bags and help her carry her things in. It was early evening, and she told herself that she was angling for an invitation to stay for dinner. She had been half a dozen times when Yurio-kun and Kenjirou-kun were cooking and each time had been a heavenly way to spend an evening off from the dinner rush at home. If she needed any more excuse than that she could settle for the game of guessing how long it would take one of them to quit tip-toeing ‘round the other and say something. Mari considered it one of the purest joys in her life and her dearest hope was that she might accidentally be there the moment the break happened. 

She was certain that she had met Mila before, dinners at competitions being the large laughing affairs that they were. She had a vague recollection of a cheery redhead that could have been Mila wrapped around a dark-haired woman down the other end of the table whose name started with an S. Sala maybe, or Sarah? 

 

Driving the car home after an elated dinner, Mari let her mind wander over the evening again. She had had a lovely time. Mila had a way of slanting her eyes towards Mari each time the boys had hidden in politeness to avoid mentioning how deep their mutual crushes ran. Each time, it had lit a laugh in Mari’s belly that had burst out of her mouth like bright flames. 

She hoped that she and Mila could be friends… 

She backed into the driveway and played with the keys in the ignition for a moment as she examined that thought; there was something odd about the shape of it. It slipped away from her however, and she pulled the keys out and walked into the house. 

 

It wasn’t until she was brushing her teeth, nearly asleep, that Mari fit the puzzle together in her mind. Her eyes, which had been slipping closed, flew open in the darkened room. In spite of her crush on Takao, the way her eyes couldn’t help but linger on the line of his back as he sang and the daydreams she’d occasionally had – if it could happen to Yuuri, why not to her? – or that boy in school, or any of a list of boys over the years. In spite of all of this, her interest in Mila wasn’t that of a potential friend. Mari didn’t get intense about friends who were here only for a month while Lilia was in Paris, to keep an eye on the proteges. Mari had a crush on Zhenya’s cousin. 

She slid under the covers, still working through this idea in her head. It made a certain amount of sense that she’d never known. Her friends in school had been boys, her arousal dealt with silently, alone. She knew, of course, that Yuuri had had crushes on both Yuuko and Viktor, knew that Yurio considered himself bisexual, that people like that – people like her – existed, but she’d never applied the thought to herself without brushing it off. A fluke, a friendship, she’d never felt that way about Minako, with whom she had always been close; it must be nothing. And yet here she was, thirty-two and allowing herself out of the closet, alone, in the dark, for the first time. 

It was exhilarating. 

She wondered if the redhead was still with ‘S’ before shaking the thought off. If she wouldn’t invest the time and energy in a short-term friendship why should she consider doing the same for a necessarily equally short relationship. Any first relationship would be messy and half of Yuuri’s business was skaters who were connected with Mila. Anything more than a general friendliness would be too much. She shifted her head on the pillow and sighed. It wouldn’t hurt to crush from a distance though. She’d never crushed on a girl before. It might be fun, even if it would inevitably end in heartbreak.


	2. Two: Mila Babicheva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mila barely waited until the other woman was out the door before turning to Yura. “Is she single? I can work with it if she’s not.”
> 
> The curl of Yura’s lip said that this wouldn’t be a simple conversation. “No.”
> 
> “But,”
> 
> “Kenjirou-kun, would you mind feeding Potya for me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't pick a perspective, so the chapters alternate... They're pretty short, but they'll come pretty quickly: probably within the next week or so. 
> 
> I love both of these women, and Hiroko, and Mila's relationship with Yuri and Mari's relationship with Yuuri... Honestly, the only character I had trouble with in this story was Minako. I wrote a whole story about her already and I still don't know how she works. Lilia doesn't understand her, but she's close-ish with Mari in canon, so Mari ought to understand how she works, and I still have no idea how she works... I'm with Lilia on this one, I have no idea how Minako works. I hope I adequately disguised that? But you don't have to worry about it for another couple of chapters anyway.

Mila barely waited until the other woman was out the door before turning to Yura. “Is she single? I can work with it if she’s not.”

The curl of Yura’s lip said that this wouldn’t be a simple conversation. “No.”

“But,”

“Kenjirou-kun, would you mind feeding Potya for me? And then maybe text and see where Zhenya is? Remind her that her cousin is here?” 

Kenjirou fled politely and Mila switched to Russian to better tease the boy who would always be her very favorite of the little brothers she didn’t have, even if he wanted to waste time being responsible after Mila had spent the evening flirting with a woman who had such a lovely dry sense of humor.

“And when will your wedding be?”

Yura knew exactly what she was talking about, an angry blush creeping down from the tips of his ears, a redness in his cheeks spreading to meet it, but gave a valiant attempt to be non-committal all the same. “I’m never getting married. Marriage is an antiquated institution used to possess women like cattle.”

“And how else will one of you get a visa, when you’re no longer world-famous figure skaters?”

He rolled his eyes. “Much the same way I maintain my friendship with Otabek, I’d assume. Skype, Instagram. Facetime and vacations.” He lifted a hand in what was clearly supposed to be an airy gesture. “Look at you, stuck in Russia now that you’ve retired, Baba.”

Mila crossed her arms at him. “Does he even know that you’re interested in him?”

Yura winced. “Please don’t tell him, Mila. I don’t… He’s not… interested in me that way. I’m happy being friends.”

Mila sighed and began to gather plates. “You’re happy being an idiot.”

He stuck his tongue out and slid the serving dish off the center of the table, turning the conversation back towards her. “You couldn’t even deal with it when Crispino’s creepy brother thought that their family ties made for an exclusive relationship. No way are you OK if Mari was in an actual relationship having sex with someone.”

“Maybe Sara and her brother were having sex. And you know you don’t have to have sex for it to be a real relationship, right?”

“First of all, gross. And yes, of course. I’m just saying that a lover having sex with someone else seems to me like a thing that would bother you especially.”

“And that that’s what would make it a real relationship.”

“I misspoke.” Yura rolled his eyes again, slipping the container of leftovers into the fridge and turning to the sink. “Phichit and Seung-gil have as real a relationship as anyone else.”

Mila blinked. “Phichit and Seung-gil don’t have sex?”

“Is it a secret? I thought they made it pretty clear when they came out. But then, I’d overheard way too much information after World’s that year when you guys stuck me in the taxi with Phichit and Yuuri, so maybe I had an advantage.”

Mila shook her head and accepted the damp dish he’d handed her to dry. “I had no idea. But we’re getting off-topic. Tell me all of these details you didn’t want to overhear later. For now, just tell me what you know about Mari Katsuki.”

“It’s Katsuki Mari. That’s how the Japanese do it.” He touched his own chest. “Plisetsky Yuri,” a hand towards the hall to the bedrooms, “Minami Kenjirou,” towards her, “Babicheva Mila,” and towards the dark window, “Katsuki Mari.”

“Katsuki Mari.” Mila repeated the name like it might hold secrets of its own, spoken in this order.

“Yes. And before you get any ideas, she’s straight.”

Mila felt her stomach drop. It wouldn’t be the first time she was wrong. “You’re sure?”

Yura was looking at her sadly. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have said it. I heard her say so herself.” He made an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. “She wouldn’t be the first you’ve given a sexuality crisis though, right?”

Mila blinked. “I think so.” She frowned at Yura. “Who else would I have given a crisis to?”

He avoided the question. “There’s a first time for everything, Baba.”

 

Mila lay awake in Lilia Baranovskaya’s bed and wondered, not for the first time, what she thought she was doing here. The room was as austere as the indomitable ballerina and Mila was already homesick. 

 

It had seemed like a good idea when Yuuri had invited her out. Most of her makeshift family was out here, Yura and Zhenya and even Yuuri and Vitya himself. She’d been floating at loose ends since April, Worlds, and her retirement. A nice month-long vacation looking after Lilia’s house and enjoying the company of her compatriots had sounded like a lovely way to waste a measure of all of this time she found herself holding. 

At the airport, she’d been homesick before she’d even gotten to Mari, the inscrutable writing on the signs and the impenetrable noise of the language around her throwing her back into her competition days so intensely that she’d actually caught herself looking around for Yakov. Luckily, Mari had found her before she could do anything more embarrassing, like finding a corner to weep in. 

Mila tried very hard to sound everlastingly cheerful and to avoid being bitterly jealous that even flighty Vitya, who Yakov had worried might starve himself to death out of sheer apathy when he was finally forced to retire, had found a purpose after skating. 

She would settle for something interesting that might make her friends. It didn’t even have to be something she loved. After all, how many careers could one person reasonably expect to fall in love with over the course of one lifetime? 

She rolled over one more time and decided that, straight or not, Mari was her best bet for a friendly face if she wanted to avoid the ice rink. She would have to find her way to the Katsuki’s hot springs tomorrow after breakfast.


	3. Three: Katsuki Mari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mari flirts by putting Mila to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> White, cis, and don't speak Japanese beyond what I've learned from YoI fic, so if I say something wrong, let me know so I can fix it? I don't want to pass on bad Japanese to my fellow fic readers who are learning Japanese and Russian through fics.

Mari, gritty-eyed from a late night followed by an early morning, did her morning chores in a state of odd euphoria. Some google- and soul-searching the night before left her feeling more like she belonged than she had done in a very long time. Suddenly her attachment to that girl in middle school made sense. Her odd devotion to that girl from high school who’d barely spoken to her. She felt like she’d successfully diagnosed herself. Descriptions online from other bi- and pansexuals left her feeling like she’d finally found her people. She wondered if this was how Yuuri felt when he first stepped onto the ice. 

She refused to listen to the feminist voice in her head, the one that scoffed that, of course, a new identity that had to do with a potential partner would be the fitting pair to her brother’s career. (She mutinously retorted that her sexuality had to do with who she was, not with finding one partner to chain herself to for the rest of her life.)

Stammi bounded down the path, eager to be dropped off for his vacation at the onsen while Yuuri and Viktor were busy at the rink, and assumed his customary position behind Mari’s knee, perfectly situated should she feel a sudden urge to pet him. She tugged an ear affectionately and continued unloading vegetables. No father figure followed him, relieving Mari momentarily of her dilemma about how much to tell anyone. 

If she never planned to marry, would it matter to her who knew that she was queer?

 

It wasn’t twenty minutes later that she came around a corner and face to face with the object of her late-night revelation. 

Mila had the good grace to look abashed. “Is it OK that I’m here? Only, Yura and everyone are already at the rink.” She dropped her gaze and left her explanation there, in spite of the fact that Mari suspected there was another sentence or two involved. 

“Of course.” Mari nodded behind her. “Grab a crate and follow me.”

Mila obeyed and joined Stammi in train behind Mari.

In the kitchen, her mother turned and laughed at the procession. “Look at this! Mari, do you make a habit of putting the guests to work when my back is turned?”

“Just the Russian ones, okaasan.” Mari let just the tips of her mouth tilt upwards.

Her mother turned to Mila. “I am Hiroko. You will call me okaasan.” 

Mari smothered a snort and turned to the other woman. “This is my mother, Katsuki Hiroko. Viktor and Yurio call her okaasan too.” She turned to her mother and continued in Japanese. “This is Mila. She’s Zhenya’s cousin.” She wished that she’d thought to ask Lilia for Russian lessons in return for her help with Japanese. Increasingly, Hasetsu seemed overrun with Russians, and familiarity with the language might be useful someday. (She refused to acknowledge what exactly she thought it might be useful for.)

Mila and her mother had set to work greeting each other with effusive mimes and her mother was turning to make a place for Mila to sit down for breakfast. Mari spoke up in a hurry. “She has to earn her breakfast first, okaasan. Mila, this way,” and she led the other woman back out of the kitchen.

 

She finally let Mila sit down to breakfast twenty minutes later, sliding up to the table across from her. Mila was as cheerful as ever.

“Do your guests always pay their way by carting things around for you?”

Mari shrugged, unwilling to admit that Mila was getting any sort of unusual treatment. “Maybe, if they look like they can handle it.”

A cloud moved and sunlight spilled into the room and across Mila’s face. 

Mari looked back down at her breakfast. 

“I know that Viktor’s strong enough – I trained with him for years – but I’m just trying to imagine him doing that sort of heavy lifting.”

Mari snorted. “He’s completely useless. I usually hand him off to one of my parents if he comes over to help. Him and his husband both. They’re lovely people, but customer service requires focus. Yuuri’s focus has always been on the ice, and since I’ve known him Viktor’s focus has been on Yuuri, so.”

Mila laughed, her mouth falling open inelegantly. Mari hoped that her face didn’t show how enchanted she was. “Savage. Yes, our Vitya has never been good about doing heavy labor.”

“To be fair, I don’t think he would mind if he understood the concept.”

Mila laughed again. “But is he really confused by the idea, or is he just pretending?”

“With Viktor? Impossible to say.”


	4. Four: Mila Babicheva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She walked up the drive with Yuuri and Vitya, treasuring Mari’s answering smile. It wasn’t until they reached the end of the driveway that she noticed both men looking at her oddly. 
> 
> “What?” and again, in Russian, “What?”
> 
> Yuuri answered her carefully. “I don’t… Didn’t realize…” He glanced at his husband for help.
> 
> “I don’t think either of us knew that you and Mari were close.”
> 
> She frowned at Vitya. “Well we aren’t especially, yet. But we barely knew each other before yesterday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Mila just keeps getting called out by men who think they know more about her crush than the women involved. I did not mean to have ANY of these wonderful non-toxic skating men mansplain anything to anyone. It just sort of happened.

The day moved quickly, and it wasn’t until Vitya and Yuuri stopped by to pick up Stammi that Mila realized how long she had spent trailing after Mari, giggling at her jokes and warmed by her answering laugh. 

Mari spoke without lifting her eyes from the towels she was folding. “If you get bored tomorrow, feel free to stop by again.”

Mila smiled at her. “Definitely. I haven’t had this much fun in months.”

 

She walked up the drive with Yuuri and Vitya, treasuring Mari’s answering smile. It wasn’t until they reached the end of the driveway that she noticed both men looking at her oddly. 

“What?” and again, in Russian, “What?”

Yuuri answered her carefully. “I don’t… Didn’t realize…” He glanced at his husband for help.

“I don’t think either of us knew that you and Mari were close.”

She frowned at Vitya. “Well we aren’t especially, yet. But we barely knew each other before yesterday.”

Yuuri responded. “Mari doesn’t tease guests. And I thought she’d given up on setting skaters to work.”

“She said that she’s given up on setting you to work because neither one of you can concentrate on the task at hand,” Mila retorted.

Vitya’s forehead frowned. “You know she’s straight, Mila?”

Mila huffed. “Yes, OK? I know she’s straight. I’m not actually crazy enough to fall in love with someone attached to a country where I don’t actually speak the language. I’m just looking for someone – for something to do while you’re all at the rink.”

Yuuri bit his lip. Vitya blinked. “Mila.”

“Sorry.” Mila huffed out a breath. “Yura was already on me about her last night. You lot do know that I can be friends with women too, right?” It was one thing for Yura to know about her pathetic unreturned crush, but the only crush Vitya had announced at the rink was Yuuri, and that crush, well. She’d known about half a dozen of Yura’s crushes, had listened the night he’d been brought to tears wondering if there was something wrong with him, that he was nineteen and never so much as kissed someone. “Aren’t you friends with men who you never kiss?”

“Never’s a long time.” Vitya smirked as he said it.

Yuuri sighed. “Yes, of course we are. Vitya, please tell me you’ve never felt the urge to kiss Yura.”

Mila snorted. “I wouldn’t recommend it even if you do. Yura’s the type who would actually bite your nose off for trying.”

Vitya winced. “Point taken.” He touched his nose tenderly and Mila glanced at Yuuri as she tried to hide her grin. He caught her eye and giggled. 

They walked along in silence, Stammi pattering around them in excited half-circles. It wasn’t until Mila turned to join Zhenya, waiting for her at the side of the road, that Yuuri spoke again. 

“Just, Mila.” 

She turned back to him, attentive.

“Mari’s not used to long-distance like we are. Just… Be careful with her.”

Mila cocked her head at him, catching Vitya doing the same thing in the corner of her eye. “She won’t be my first non-skating friend, Yuuri.” And then, unable to avoid teasing him (how the hell was she supposed to respond to a comment like that, after being told that Mari was straight) “I’ll be gentle with your sister, I promise.” Her smile, as she turned to follow Zhenya, was all teeth.

 

As soon as they were seated, Zhenya began to question her. 

“What was Yuuri talking about? You and Mari? Isn’t she straight?”

“So I’m told.” Mila tried to hold her grin steady on her face. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Do you guys even know each other?” Zhenya turned to the waiter who had just appeared and spoke in slow Japanese, smiling and nodding and pausing to repeat herself whenever the man repeated a word. 

Mila bit her lip and tried not to sound annoyed when she answered. “Not really. But she’s friendly, and she’s not on a skater’s socializing schedule.”

From the way Zhenya held her hands up, Mila hadn’t done a very good job. 

“So what’s it like living in Hasetsu after Petersburg?”

Zhenya’s look informed her that her attempt to change the subject was fumbling at best, but she went along with it anyway.


	5. Five: Katsuki Mari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri kidnaps Mila and no one informs Mari.

Mari only realized that she had allowed her day to fall into a new routine on the fifth day, when Mila never showed up. Mari told herself that she didn’t mind as she went about her morning chores and ate her breakfast. As she whistled for Stammi to follow her to clear out an old storeroom she told herself that this was just as well. Skaters only seemed to date other skaters anyway, barring Chris. And even he was married to his choreographer. 

She stalked through her chores until noon, when she began to make up reasons why Mila might not be there and began to worry. Hasetsu was a small town, yes, but Mila was in a foreign country. She didn’t even speak the language. She couldn’t even read signs. 

 

By the time she heard Viktor’s voice behind her, she’d worked herself to a level of anxiety that she felt was better left to her sibling. She was about to turn and say hello when a pair of hands covered her eyes. Mari hated the way her whole body relaxed. 

“Mila. I wondered where you’d gone.” At least her voice was even.

“Can’t get rid of me. What is it,” her hands shifted; probably looking behind her. “I’m like a bad penny?”

Mari finally turned to face her, Mila’s hands dropping. They rested on Mari’s shoulders for a moment before dropping to her sides. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Viktor looked nonplussed, and Mari realized how close she and Mila were standing. Mila, however, didn’t seem to mind, and Mari had never been one to back away from a game of chicken. She stepped in, just a little. 

“Tanaka-san missed you today. He finally found the English name of that flower you were asking him about. You’ll have to get it from him though; I’ve already forgotten.”

Mila’s gaze flicked down, so fast Mari almost missed it. “And the fight over the television? Who won today? Was it football or daytime TV?”

“Neither.” Mari fought back a grin. “Minako stopped in. There’s no ice skating this time of year, but apparently dressage will do in a pinch.”

“Dressage?” 

Mari flicked her fingers. “It’s just a bunch of people on horses doing the exact same figures as everyone else on their horses, but Minako seemed interested.”

She watched Mila swallow. “Interesting. I wish I’d been here. I’d love to get to talk to Minako sometime. You two are close, aren’t you?”

Mari lifted a shoulder and tried to look like she didn’t care. “She’ll probably be back tomorrow.” She didn’t mention that Minako was as interested in meeting the girl featured in every one of Mari’s stories as Mila was interested in meeting her. 

Yuuri cleared his throat. 

“Well, I guess we’ll just be off…” Viktor sounded uncomfortable. When Mila took a couple of steps back and dropped her gaze to the floor, Mari scowled at him.

“Actually,” Yuuri’s tone was mild, “Maybe you want to take Stammi home, Vitya? Be a good boy and I’ll give you a treat when I get home.”

Mari was used to them by now, but it was really the principle of the thing. “Yuuri! Eww, you’re my baby brother. You can’t say things like that!” She stepped towards him (and if it was towards Mila too, of course that was just a coincidence) and slipped her hands over his ears. “You’re still ten and have no idea that those posters in your room are about anything but Viktor’s skating.” She kept her voice firm and her face straight.

She swore that Mila’s laughter made the whole room brighter.

“You know that covering his ears doesn’t stop the issue when he’s the one talking, right?” 

“Hush, Viktor. You’ve been a terrible influence on my baby brother.” Mari smiled to soften the accusation and stepped to her right (accidentally towards Mila again) to ruffle his hair. 

Viktor smiled and whistled to Stammi. “Goodnight everyone. Mila, do you want some company?”

Mila smiled at Mari. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Mari nodded and smiled but couldn’t make her voice work for long enough that a response would make it weirder. 

Yuuri waited until the other two had left before turning to her. 

“Mari?”

Mari shrugged. Yuuri looked like he didn’t know how to ask the question without sounding offensive and Mari took pity on him with a sigh. “Yuuri, I think I’m bi.” 

Yuuri nodded once, firmly, the way he responded to orders from his coach on TV. Like she’d given him a direction to go. “And Mila?”

Mari shrugged. “Leave it be. She’ll be leaving in three weeks anyway. And doesn’t she have a girlfriend?”

He blinked. “I don’t think so. Did she say she did?”

Mari shook her head. “No. But there was that other skater, Sa- Somebody. She seemed pretty close to Mila at some point.”

Yuuri shook his head. “Sara and Mila broke up over two years ago now. I don’t think Mila’s been seeing anyone since.”

Mari lowered her gaze to the floor and gave an obstinate shrug. “So?”

Yuuri sighed. “I don’t think that Mila has any particular reason she needs to leave, if she had a reason to stay longer.”

Mari shuffled her feet and refused to look at him.

“Look, we told her that you were straight. I can correct that if you want, but otherwise you’ll have to make the first move.” Mari, glancing up without raising her head, thought Yuuri looked more abashed than the situation really called for.

She hesitated. “Well, only…” She paused and started over. “If the topic comes up, I don’t mind her knowing that I’m not straight. But there’s no need to go out of your way. I’m not in a rush to date anyone.”

It wasn’t until Yuuri had walked through the other room and said good-bye to their parents that it occurred to her to wonder why they’d been discussing her sexuality at all, and she rushed after him out into the night. 

“Yuuri?”

He was already gone.


	6. Six: Mila Babicheva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sunrise was beautiful through the windows of the Ice Castle Hasetsu, and it wasn’t that Mila didn’t love being on the ice, but. She slid in a slow circle around Zhenya without lifting a foot from the ice and pointed. 
> 
> “Left edge for takeoff, Zhenya. You’re getting sloppy with that. And your ankle, on the landing,” she lifted her foot in front of her and tilted her ankle as a demonstration. “If you want to break your ankle, by all means keep twisting it like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry, I've got nothing. You all hopefully know to let me know if I've accidentally said something small minded and I *think* I've been fair to all of the characters in this story... Yeah, that's all I've got.

The sunrise was beautiful through the windows of the Ice Castle Hasetsu, and it wasn’t that Mila didn’t love being on the ice, but. She slid in a slow circle around Zhenya without lifting a foot from the ice and pointed. 

“Left edge for takeoff, Zhenya. You’re getting sloppy with that. And your ankle, on the landing,” she lifted her foot in front of her and tilted her ankle as a demonstration. “If you want to break your ankle, by all means keep twisting it like that.”

Mila had never been any good at coaching, and everyone on this rink knew it. Even Axel was figuring it out by now, and it had only been an hour. Mila thought that she should be embarrassed that Yura was doing a better job helping the women’s singles skaters than she was, but Yura and Yuuri both liked teaching people. They liked the moment when the other person learned something, and they didn’t mind that they’d have to teach the person again the next day when they couldn’t land their triple flip again. They didn’t mind that they could do it already, and do it better, and they were willing to think about how to explain a feeling so that it made sense to someone else. 

Mila wanted to scream. She wanted to go home and tell Yakov that he couldn’t retire yet, because she couldn’t retire yet, because she didn’t know what to do with her life. 

She didn’t want to admit to anyone that the only thing she had enjoyed since leaving the ice was sitting in the dining room at the hot springs and distracting the customers so that they bought more food. Even with her five words of Japanese she was enough of a people person to get her teasing across. She already knew half a dozen of the regulars. 

It wasn’t, she knew, an appropriate second career for a figure skater. Even without worrying about a visa, even if she just went home to Russia, she could never become a bartender, or a hostess. She’d be laughed out of the restaurant.

Mila scowled at the ice.

There was a thud behind her and she turned quickly enough to see Yura pushing away from the barrier he’d just skated into. She was willing to bet her ticket home that he’d been busy staring at Kenjirou. 

She spun back the other way and wondered how long Yura and Yuuri and Vitya were going to make her stay. Maybe she could slip away in time to help with the end of the lunch rush. 

Yura slid to a stop in front of her. “If you’re bored, you could talk to Axel about skating to show off your strength instead of your flexibility.”

Mila bit back a sigh and turned back to the rink.

 

She scuffed her feet as she walked out of the onsen after Vitya. 

Vitya broke the silence. “I’ve never seen Mari so… She’s different with you.”

“Huh?” Mila turned to look at him. “Different how?”

He shrugged. “Would you say that I’m different with Yuuri?”

“I thought that she’s straight?”

“Maybe we were wrong.”

Mila huffed. “Maybe you fell on your head too many times.”

“That’s always possible.” When Mila was younger she had adored Vitya, and it had infuriated her when he humored her. She liked to think that her image of him now was more nuanced, but the placation still made her feel like punching something, even when she hadn’t spent the day angry.

He spoke first again. “She doesn’t usually… I’ve seen other people touch her. She tolerates it, but.”

Mila felt her stomach flip. “She doesn’t like being touched?” 

“She didn’t seem to mind it from you.” Vitya waved away her concern and Mila berated herself silently.


	7. Seven: Katsuki Mari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mari worries a little bit about the age gap. (I'm still worried about the age gap.) Other things probably happen too. Mila asks about the onsen. And starts to communicate too. She's more straightforward than some of these other lovely fools.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know. White cis woman here. If I say something wrong or thoughtless, let me know.

When Mila started the day by depositing herself in front of Mari and apologizing solemnly for touching her (“I’m a tactile person, and I didn’t even think- But Vitya says that you don’t like it, and I’m sorry. I’ll try not to do it again.”) Mari was nonplussed. She hadn’t even started to make decisions about this.

“I don’t mind.” Apparently her mouth was just going to respond without input from her brain. “I like it. You touch people to let them in. Viktor’s just being dramatic.”

She didn’t say, “I try not to let people touch me in public in case it gives sleezy customers ideas.” She didn’t say, “There are other ways I’d like you to touch me too,” either. She finally put together a sentence that made sense without being too revealing.

“It depends on the person, right? You’re different.”

Mila gave her an obscure look. “I’ll accept that, but only if you promise to tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable.”

Mari laughed and handed her a crate. “I’ve never had any trouble speaking my mind before.” She turned to lead the way and hoped that the blush from her half-lie hadn’t spread to her ears. If she never had to admit her crush to Mila, that would be soon enough. 

 

She watched the other woman as she sat and chatted up the customers in a mixture of gestures and facial expressions. Mari had gotten far too used to Mila being there. Feeding a harmless crush was one thing, but it would be better to guard her heart a little. Keep her from missing the other woman too much when she left.

She made a round of the room, refilling glasses, and reminded herself that there was an expiration date on this friendship. Next month their friendship would boil down to Instagram likes with perhaps the occasional message chain when Mari had gossip about Yurio-kun and Kenjirou-kun. She would have to start the messaging every time. What would Mila have to say to her in Russia?

 

She wasn’t sure why it came as a surprise that afternoon, when Mila turned to her and asked about the hot springs. They were the reason why people came here. Mari had taken the other woman along to restock towels a dozen times in the past week. Somehow, though, it had never crossed her mind that she might, at some point, take the other woman bathing with her. She hesitated before answering and nearly sent Mila to her mother instead. If she took the other woman to the hot springs herself, she would never resist the opportunity to look at the other woman’s body. There was an age difference. It would make her a creep. But if she sent Mila to someone else or refused to go in with her, she would have to explain why. 

Mari bit her lip. “You should wait until later. We use them after they’re closed to the guests. It’s nicer when they’re emptier.” And at least there would be no witnesses to Mari’s lack of self-control.

 

It was a terrible idea to put it off until later. Mila continued about her day oblivious, while Mari made a series of mistakes she hadn’t made in years. When she served the wrong dish to the third customer in a row, her mother pulled her into the kitchen and left Mila to serve the dining room. In the kitchen, Mari was quickly demoted to washing dishes. 

Luckily washing dishes was made for daydreaming. She still felt dirty, but at least she wasn’t likely to make a mess through her distraction. She could think about how the glassy water over the dishes was going to be water over Mila’s bare skin later that evening. She could, as she scraped leftovers into the trash, remind herself that, thanks to her invitation, Mila would stay for dinner, seated across from her for the third meal that day. Even when she was overcome with self-loathing – didn’t enough people perv on women without Mari adding herself to the list? – the hot water and soap felt like they were scouring her clean again.

Mila seemed to have taken Mari’s acceptance of her touching as carte blanche to do it twice as much. It seemed that every time the other woman was in the kitchen a finger trailed over the back of Mari’s neck, sometimes followed by a noodle slithering down her spine. Her mother, as ever, took things in stride, even as they invited chaos to join them in her kitchen. 

When the lunch rush ended, Mari ducked outside for a moment of perspective. A crush was all well and good, but she needed to be able to function. She needed to take a step back. 

Iron control re-imposed, she joined Mila and her mother at the table. Mila shifted as soon as Mari settled, and a moment later she felt a nudge against her knee. She knew without looking that it was Mila. She gave the other woman a grin and turned to discuss afternoon chores with her mother.


	8. Eight: Mila Babicheva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mila followed Mari out to the hot springs, trying to decide if the invitation for a private bath had been an invitation for something more. She had thought it might be, especially after the exchange with Vitya, but Mari was so hard to read. Mila still wasn’t about to make the first move, but she wasn’t above issuing an invitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Move right along. Nothing to see here.

Mila followed Mari out to the hot springs, trying to decide if the invitation for a private bath had been an invitation for something more. She had thought it might be, especially after the exchange with Vitya, but Mari was so hard to read. Mila still wasn’t about to make the first move, but she wasn’t above issuing an invitation. 

She waited until Mari was facing her to slip off her towel and stretch, then dip a pointed toe in the water. Mari’s eyes followed the line of her body, only for Mari to turn the other way as she removed her own towel and slipped into the water. The line of her back caught Mila’s breath. Mari didn’t turn back until Mila sloshed her own way into the water, and completely forgot about her private seduction goals. It was OK. The moan she let out was indecent enough, at any rate. 

“All these years Yura’s been talking up the hot springs, I thought he was exaggerating. I think he may have been holding out on me.” She could feel muscles relaxing that she’d forgotten she had. 

Mari laughed, and Mila somehow spared her enough attention to note that she’d finally turned to face Mila again. “The onsen seems to have that effect on skaters.”

Mila let her head tilt back and groaned again. “You try spending eight and ten hours a day pushing your body as far as it will go for eighteen or twenty years of your life. You’ll learn how to appreciate them too.” It was nineteen years for her, nineteen years and three months. She hadn’t dedicated as much time to it, maybe, as a five-year-old, but the ice had her heart every one of those days. She wasn’t sure that she’d completely recovered it yet. 

“No thank you. See, I’m smart enough that I can enjoy the onsen after just watching Yuuri torture himself for his art.” A pause. Mila hoped that Mari was distracted by the line of her neck, but she was honestly too busy enjoying the hot springs to check. “Or maybe it’s all the time I spend carrying things around.”

“Mmm.” Mila knew that her original interest in the hot springs had been about seduction, but she was just too relaxed. “Good, so when my muscles melt you’ll be able to carry me out?” Or maybe her brain had melted. Apparently all that was left when her brain turned to goo was flirting. She glanced at Mari with an effort, but couldn’t tell if the color in the older woman’s cheeks was from the heat of the hot springs or from imagining Mila’s bare body in her arms.

A wave splashed against Mila’s face. “I’ve spent all day carrying things. You’re the athlete, you can carry me out.”

Mila swallowed. “As you wish. Just let me know when you’re ready.” She had a sudden flashback to Yuuri’s description of Vitya stretching him in the hot springs. All Mila really asked from life was to be less ridiculous than Vitya. She honestly wasn’t sure where this fell on the spectrum, but she felt her cheeks heat from the thought. 

 

In the end, Okaasan had joined them and there had been no discussion of anyone carrying anyone else out. (Zhenya had informed Mila that whatever Okaasan meant, it definitely wasn’t a diminutive of Hiroko. Mila was still trying to figure out what exactly Mari’s mother had asked to be called. She wasn’t desperate enough yet to ask Yuuri, Yura, or Vitya, especially with the way the three of them had been acting every time she and Mari were friendly with one another.)

Mila tried not to be disappointed, and if she spent her lonely walk home trying to imagine the feeling of Mari’s warm body in her arms, or Mari’s arms slipped under her knees and shoulders, bridal style, well. It wasn’t like she didn’t know that she was hopeless. 

 

The weather the next day was hot and humid, so that the last thing Mila wanted to think about was slipping back into the suffocating waters of the hot spring. It was the skaters’ day off, and she spent the day with Zhenya and Yura and Kenjirou, wandering through the markets of the closest town and trying on things in every store. If half of Mila’s mind spent the day shopping for Mari, at least it never did it out loud. 

She and Zhenya watched, amused, as Kenjirou presented Yura with a cat hoodie when they stopped for lunch. Mila swore that there were tears in Yura’s eyes as he thanked the other man and immediately slipped the hoodie on, heedless of the temperature and possibility for heatstroke. Mila shot a surreptitious photo for Mari’s amusement and tried not to imagine the other woman’s reaction. She wasn’t going to be as hopeless as these two either. 

When Yura steered them into a cat café, Mila laughed. 

Kenjirou’s whole fucking face lit up, and Mila didn’t even bother stealing another picture for her collection. These two idiots really were made for each other. Mila settled herself into a corner and began luring a cat with a feather toy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was this close to giving Mila a cat, but she's already got Yuri so there was no narrative point, unfortunately.
> 
> I'll probably post the rest of this tomorrow or the day after.


	9. Nine: Katsuki Mari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mila needs a little help, but at least she's smart enough to ask for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, that took a little bit longer than I thought it would. I think I can get the rest of this story up today, so that's that, at least. 
> 
> tw for a little bit of depression on Mila's part. It's a big part of what I associate with being in between jobs, and Mila has to figure out what she wants to do from scratch, so... I feel like YoI represents so much of the millenial experience, I was excited to include a little bit more of it. (I think that eventually she's going to sign on to Chris and Phichit's Ice Show dynasty and do something people-oriented... Do ice shows get announcers? But I didn't solve it in this story.)

Mila came in looking wan. “Remind me how funny Yura and Kenjirou are, please?”

Mari blinked. “They’re hilarious. Have you been walking around at home with your eyes closed?” She looked closer at Mila. The other woman looked tired.

“But what sort of world do we live in,” Mila picked up a crate of vegetables and fell in behind her, “Where even two people in as deep as Kenjirou and Yura can’t figure out how to get together? They might be as bad as Yuuri and Viktor.”

Mari winced, remembering. “That was painful.”

Mila snorted. “I forgot that you had a front row seat for that. Vitya was enough of a mess before he flew halfway around the world after your brother. Remind me to ask you about that.” 

“Oh, I will. Here, that was it for the vegetables. This way.” Mari led the way around the corner. “What were you going to say?”

“Oh.” Mila’s voice was small. “Nothing.”

Mari bit her lip. “If Yuuri and Viktor can figure themselves out, I’m sure that Yurio-kun and Kenjirou-kun will. There’s still hope.” She stopped herself, made a decision. “I think that Lilia has a plan.”

Mila offered a shrug. “And what does it say that none of us can manage to figure our own shit out without help from Lilia?”

Mari smirked. “Remind me to tell you about Lilia’s shit. But also, who cares?”

Mila frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m more than my romantic relationships. You’re more than your romantic relationships.” She shrugged. “Even Yurio-kun is more than his whatever-it-is with Kenjirou-kun.”

Mila’s face was still unhappy. “I don’t have anything together outside of my romantic relationships either.”

Mari stopped and turned to face her. Mila looked out of place in a way that Mari hadn’t seen before. 

She turned again and led her through a door and into her own room, gesturing to the chair. Mari took the bed and faced her, waited while Mila settled into the chair and fiddled with a loose pencil.

“Mila, you have so much together.” Mari bit her lip and tried to figure out how to phrase it right. In the end she just blurted it out. “You’ve already had one extraordinarily successful career. Tanaka-san didn’t know how to… how to be after he retired either. But he was nearing seventy, so no one expected him to do more than adjust to extra free time.” Apparently she’d spent more time thinking about Mila’s predicament than she’d realized.

Mila crossed her arms over her chest. “Yuuri had one successful career. That doesn’t seem to have stopped him from going on for a second one.”

Mari shrugged. “He seems to think that he’s not very good at it.”

Mila snorted. “He’s fucking fantastic. He’s more supportive than any other coach I’ve ever met.”

Mari frowned. “Is that what every skater needs? Support?”

Mila shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never pretended to understand skaters. But Yuuri would be the first to tell you that he’s taken the easy route. If you’re looking for something different, it might take a little longer. You’re being more ambitious.”

Stammi cocked his head at Mila and whined. Mila reached out and pulled the puppy’s ears softly. 

Mari fiddled with her sheets. “Are you,” pause, “going to be. You know, OK?”

Mila offered a short laugh. “You know, I think so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And for what it's worth, I don't necessarily think Yuuri will be a bad coach... once he gains some confidence. But to start I think that, like with skating, he'll be pretty uneven. He's going to take some practice standing up to Yuri especially, and telling Yuri that he knows better. On the other hand, he's going to be super supportive of his students, right from the start. And he's going to second-guess himself, right up until Yuri or Viktor accidentally steamrolls over him, at which point they're all going to suddenly be reminded who is actually in charge here. But it might take him a couple of years and some experience to gain that finesse.


	10. Ten: Mila Babicheva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath from last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably the one that relates most to other stories in the series, but it's just Mari filling Mila in. Honestly, it probably works better if you haven't read the other story, otherwise it's just a recap of things you already know.

Mila kept expecting Mari to stand up and move them out of the room (Mari’s room?). Instead, the other woman had flopped to her side on the bed and was watching either Mila’s hand or the puppy’s face. He was threatening to flop right over into a puddle at her feet. Mila was going to assume that Mari was watching the puppy. She was too muddled, Mari too helpful in calming the waters, for her to presume anything about Mari’s feelings today. 

Mila glanced around the room. The walls were bare, a single bookshelf beside the desk had books in Japanese on it. The bottom shelf had a half-dozen English books, Mila assumed from school. 

She finally broke the silence herself. 

“Lilia’s shit?”

Mari rolled to look at her, a wicked look on her face. “Have you met Minako yet?”

Mila shook her head and watched Mari hesitate.

“Promise not to tell Minako that I’ve gossiped with you about them. She’s one of my oldest friends.”

Mila frowned. “Lilia’s straight.”

“Not from anything that I’ve seen.” Mari bit her lip. “I… Look, neither of them has said anything to me, but about a month ago Lilia had us all over. They both disappeared into a dark hallway and when Lilia rejoined us in the kitchen she was blushing like a schoolgirl.” Mari sat up, leaning forward. 

The neckline on her shirt looped lower, offering just a hint of a curve, and Mila leaned over to pet Stammi’s belly to avoid the temptation to peek. Somehow it seemed even more illicit than Mari’s naked body in the hot springs. 

“Lilia’s been asking me for Japanese lessons, but whenever Minako comes up in conversation she’s always strange about it. And not like professional jealousy.”

Mila dismissed that with a wave. Stammi brought his head up to intercept her hand on its way back. “Lilia Baranovskaya’s never had to be professionally jealous in her life.”

Mari shrugged. “That’s why she’s 60 if she’s a day and just learning to relax now, right?” Her voice came out sharp, and Mila responded to that the way ten years of training with Yura had taught her.

“One day you’ll understand these things too.” She opened her mouth again, not sure where the condescension would take her, only to be interrupted by Mari.

“If this is about how you athletes are a different breed who I couldn’t possibly understand, spare me.” Her voice was apologetic. “She’s just seemed. Like, every time I see the two of them together, Lilia’s stretching her neck and pointing her toes as she walks. I was sure that it was professional jealousy at first, but now I think it’s some odd ballet mating ritual.”

The anger stiffening the back of Mila’s neck gave way without warning, curiosity slipping in to fill the gap. “Wait, seriously? What does Yura think?”

Mari shrugged. “I don’t spend that much time with Yurio-kun. Yuuri and Viktor are the ones I spend time with really, them and Minako and Lilia.” Pause. “And you, now.” Mila felt obscurely complimented. “But whatever it is, or isn’t, Lilia doesn’t have her shit together. Minako was here the day you were at the rink, and she hadn’t heard a thing from Lilia and Loop. I had more news than she did, because Lutz told me that Loop texted… Anyway. Lilia doesn’t have her shit together.”

Mila stared at her. “Don’t mind me. I’m just re-writing my whole worldview.”

“Wait, tell me what it was like growing up with Lilia. You guys all lived with them, right? And they taught you. What was she like? Yurio-kun and Viktor don’t seem quite prepared for her here, so. I assume she was different.” Mari scooted forward so that she was literally on the edge of her seat.

Mila felt herself relax into her role as gossip queen. “Well, I didn’t honestly have as much to do with her as those two, and especially not as much as Yura. He may be a skater, not a dancer, but he’s her protégé for all that, in a way that even some of her dancers aren’t. Vitya was more like me, he lived with them, but they seem closer than I ever was with her.” She bit her lip. “You talked about them parenting us, when you picked me up.” 

Too late, she wondered if it was odd for her to have remembered everything Mari had said to her that first day, if she should have pretended to lose details. She didn’t want to weird Mari out. And Mari was straight. 

“They weren’t like your parents.” She had finally googled okaasan the night before and was obscurely flattered. “We were their job. Yakov always made it clear that he cared about us, but we all knew that when the next kid came along who could be something and needed a little extra watching, we’d be out back in the dorms.” She rubbed her thumb across her mouth. She’d been kicked out not for the next kid, but for the divorce. “Lilia always held herself back. I think she liked company, but she didn’t like children. Or.” She paused. That wasn’t quite right. “She liked us, but she didn’t want to be our mother, and none of us – including her – were sure how to do something different, until Yura.”

Why Yura had no interest in having a second mother in Lilia Baranovskaya was not her story to tell. Mari was watching, perfectly still. Like she was afraid that if she moved Mila might stop talking. Mila thought that Mari ought to know better by now. Mila wouldn’t stop talking until she was dead, and maybe not even then, depending which set of cultural superstitions turned out to be true.

“It was intimidating, eating breakfast every morning across the table from Lilia Baranovskaya.” She’d noticed that Mari just called the older woman Lilia. “I- It was odd. It wasn’t something that you get used to, not as an impressionable twelve-year-old. She used to keep me from getting too big a head. I like her, but I’m still half terrified of her.” And at the look on Mari’s face, “Oh, no, I needed it. I wouldn’t have gotten half as far otherwise. Yakov yelled, but it was still easy to laugh him off. Lilia was serious business.”

Her brain echoed Mari’s earlier words, ‘Is that what every skater needs? Support?’ and she suddenly wondered if Yuuri wasn’t fitting as easily into coaching as she had assumed. It wasn’t until she was drifting off to sleep that night that she realized how thoroughly Mari had distracted her without even being told that was what she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I think Yuuri is going to be a great coach, I just don't think he's going to be one immediately.
> 
> And this seems like a semi-appropriate place to babble for a few minutes about how hard I thought about the exact way each character spoke to/about each other character. It started just with Yuri/Yura/Yurio, but it expanded from there really quickly. Names are always important and especially in two cultures that do nicknames as consistently as Russia and Japan, I hope that I got it right. (I'm still half-tempted to go back and have Yuri and Leo use each other's surnames in some sort of performative bromance.) At any rate, whether it worked out or not, any mistakes I made were thought long and hard about, so let me know if you know more about name conventions in Japan or Russia and I've gotten it wrong.


	11. Eleven: Katsuki Mari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mila finally meets Minako.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also spent a long time going back and forth on exactly how close Mari and Minako are, so I hope I've done OK with that. Minako in general is still a bit of a mystery to me. I can't quite manage to figure out how she works, but I want to. Enjoy the chapter, and tell me your headcanons about Minako in the comments if you have opinions about who she is?

When Mari decided that they really couldn’t hide away anymore and led Mila back out, it was eleven o’clock and the lunch rush was about to begin. Her mother waved them out of the kitchen though, and sent them to go keep Minako company. Hiroko had been friends with Minako since they were in school together, and she worried about Minako’s drinking. Mari glanced at Mila, feeling guilty for gossiping about her old friend and wondering if she needed to also mention that their job here was to sell less alcohol, but Mila followed her to the table before Mari decided and gave a friendly nod to Minako. 

“Minako, this is Mila. Mila, Minako-sensei.”

Minako smirked at Mila. Mari swallowed. You could never quite trust what might come out of Minako’s mouth next. 

“Mila Babicheva! I’m delighted.” She shook her head so that her hair fell out behind her and continued. “Our Yurio talks about you often.” She patted the ground next to her. “Sit. Talk.”

Mari let herself relax a little as she settled across from them. 

Mila was clearly charmed. “Anything in particular I should talk about or just whatever comes to mind?”

Mari felt ice roll up her spine as Minako gave her a look. “How are you liking Hasetsu? I hear that you haven’t been spending much time at the Ice Castle.”

Mila glanced at Mari, whose mouth had gone dry. “This is the first time in years that I’ve been able to enjoy another country when I visit it. Why would I hide in the ice rink? After a while, they’re all the same.”

Mari snorted. “I’m pretty sure that I listened to Yurio-kun wax poetic for nearly an hour one day about the virtues of Ice Castle Hasetsu. He was talking to Kenjirou-kun though, so.”

Mila’s head tilted back as she laughed. Mari was glad to note that the other woman showed no sign of being set off again by the mention of the hapless couple. 

On the contrary, Mila’s eyes narrowed at Minako. “Yura tells me that you’ve been sharing studio space with Lilia Baranovskaya. What’s that like?”

Mari bit her lip hard to avoid laughing. (Later, when it no longer involved multitasking, she would appreciate the way that both Mila and Minako said ‘Yura’ and ‘Yurio’ when they meant “Mari.’) Minako blinked, thrown off-balance. 

“Oh, it’s nice.”

Mila’s eyes met Mari’s across the table. “Nice?” Mari dropped her eyes and tried not to cackle.

“Well,” Minako glanced over at Mari, who hoped that her face was under control. “She’s very deferential. Polite.” And a smile curled across Minako’s face. “One day, Yurio and I caught her and Kenjirou-kun dancing a polka.”

Mila’s jaw dropped. “No!” 

Minako raised a questioning hand. “Why not? She was cheering Kenjirou up. To be honest, I think he’s everyone’s favorite. He’s so good-humored, it makes him easy to like.”

Mila shook her head. “I’m still caught on Lilia Baranovskaya being deferential. But no, she’s never been interested in people just because they were easy to get along with before. And she’s certainly never threatened the sanctity of her studio with disco music.”

“Maybe because it’s Minako’s studio?” Mari tried not to laugh. 

Minako gave her a dirty look. “I told you, she treats me and my studio with far too much respect.”

Mila leaned towards Minako, her smile flickering. “I know how that is. Sometimes you just want them to treat you like you’re human, right?”

“Exactly,” Minako agreed, and then froze, looking caught. 

Mari, her breath caught in her throat, tried to lighten the mood. “If only Lilia would treat your studio like it was only human.”

Both of her audience members snorted and Mari drew a silent breath of relief. 

Mila cleared her throat. “But do you treat Lilia Baranovskaya like she’s only human?” She licked her lips, like she was afraid of any answer she might receive. Mari slid a foot under the table to touch Mila’s leg. Mila blinked up at her and smiled. 

 

Mila was beaming when Minako left. “I can see why you like her. She used to come to Yuuri’s events with you, right? I always used to wonder if you were dating.”

Mari was grateful that she’d had her back to Mila and continued washing dishes as she answered. This would be a perfect moment to correct Mila on her sexuality casually, but. “No,” she managed, “Minako and I never dated. It would be like dating your favorite aunt.”

“I see that now.” Mila drew closer until her breath disturbed the invisible hair behind Mari’s ear. “But you guys were very close.”

Mari panicked and changed the subject. “You see now? What I meant about Lilia and Minako?”

Mila picked up a dishtowel and began drying. “I do. Yura’s going to be getting an inquisition when I get home, and not about Kenjirou for a change.”

Mari snorted. 

Mila half-turned her head, just enough to catch Mari’s eye. “Have I met any exes of yours yet? Or are you dating someone now?”

Mari ducked her head and spoke to the stream of water coming out from the tap. “No, I… I don’t have any exes for you to meet, and I’m not dating anyone now.”

“Oh,” Mari didn’t want to parse the tone in Mila’s voice. “Sorry, I didn’t… Are you ace then? Like Phichit? If you don’t mind my asking, if you do just tell me to shut up, I might even listen for a change…”

Mari handed her a bowl and cut her off. “No, I’m not ace. And I don’t mind you asking. I’m bi.” She grabbed blindly for the next dirty dish and prayed that her mother would walk in on them or that the stove would catch fire; something to get her out of this situation she had just created.

“Oh.” This was a very different ‘oh,’ one that sounded like Mila understood something. Mari prayed that it wasn’t her crush. “Thanks for telling me. I’m bi too, if you didn’t know.”

“How would I have known?” Mari did her best to relax, grateful at Mila’s thoughtfulness in removing the pressure. 

“You follow my Instagram. You’re friends with my cousin and several former rinkmates.” Mila’s shoulder lifted. “It’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”

Mari breathed. “I didn’t know. So. Thank you for telling me?”

When Mila’s bright laugh pealed out beside her, Mari relaxed.


	12. Twelve: Mila Babicheva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mila tries to interrogate Yuri but she's a little distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing really to say up here, but some extra long notes at the bottom to make up for it.

Mila didn’t plan to bring anything up with Yura that night. She sat silent over dinner, barely registering the boys’ stolen glances and Zhenya’s barely hidden laughter. Her mind was taken up with the sound of Mari’s laughter, the barely visible freeze in her profile when Mila asked, that didn’t go away until she offered up her own sexuality. She replayed the laugh that Mari had breathed out and decided again that Mari had been nervous. Because she was interested in Mila, or because she was only just coming out of the closet? 

Kenjirou waved at her. “Mila! Do you think you could return long enough to answer the question? We’ll let you go back to wherever you are after.” 

Mila started and managed to catch the tail end of Yura’s smirk. The boy’s infatuation was really too much. “Sorry.” She felt shameless. “I’ll need that question repeated, and then I’ll decide if it’s worth answering or not.” She changed her mind before they could bother. She might want information for Mari tomorrow. “So what’s up with Lilia and Minako?”

All three of her fellows looked surprised. Yura responded first. He should know better than to try dissembling to her after all these years. 

“They share Minako’s studio space for now, until Lilia finds a place she can turn into a studio.” Mila hadn’t known about that.

Kenjirou broke next underneath the weight of Mila’s silence and crossed arms. 

“They’re friends? Minako-san took Lilia on a tour of the town and helped her learn her way around.” He paused. “I think they’re conspiring on my – one of my programs; Minako-san has been doing more choreographing since Lilia has been egging her on.”

Mila didn’t know him well enough to say if he was unaware or putting on as well, but Zhenya was genuinely unaware. She always had been more interested in music and dancing than in the foibles of her fellows. 

“What are you on about, Mila? Trying to distract us?” She was also single-minded when she did decide to root something out. “Yura asked how your day was, but we meant how things were going with the straight Katsuki sibling.”

Mila wasn’t about to out Mari. She had already decided that much. “And that’s another thing.” She turned to Yura. “Speaking of the Katsuki family, Vitya said that you call Hiroko-san something else. It started with an ‘O’.”

“Okaasan. She asked me to.” Mila remembered too late how little Yura liked to talk about family, but she needed some answers. She could leave the implications aside maybe. 

“Since you moved here, or since you’ve known her…” She let the question trail off into silence and hoped.

Yura wasn’t in the mood though, not in front of so many people at once. “I’m done. I cooked, you can clean. Baba.” There was a clatter in the kitchen as his dishes got tipped into the sink, and Kenjirou gave her a reproachful look. 

Mila shrugged at him and continued eating. Zhenya was watching her. 

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Then we’re all leaving the table unsatisfied.” Mila was surprised by the bite to her words. Something about the day had gotten under her skin and wasn’t going to crawl back out on its own.

 

She wasn’t prepared the next time that she saw Mari. She’d lingered away from Yu-topia for most of the morning and early afternoon, unwilling to risk showing Mari her bad mood two days in a row. Instead, she followed Yura and the others to Ice Castle Hasetsu without comment and spent the morning working herself as if she were still in training. When she wandered in sometime after lunch with a vague interest in the hot springs, she hadn’t been expecting her simmering interest to have raged out of control overnight. Mari just jerked her chin up at Mila and rolled her eyes at the patron she was serving, and Mila felt her thighs tingle and her gut curl. 

She swallowed as she walked up. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Mari turned to smile before putting her to work. “Can you restock towels? I told mom I’d do it ages ago, but,” she swept a hand across the packed dining room, “we’ve been busy.”

“Sure thing,” and Mila retreated, shaken. This was definitely not the plan. Bitterly, Mila acknowledged the truth of Yura’s assessment. She wasn’t suited to casual crushes or flings. Even so, she scolded, biting her lip hard, she shouldn’t be getting this attached. She’d had half a dozen people warn her off and she had waved them away (she paused to concentrate on loading her arms with towels) and here she was, in over her head anyway. She turned, arms full, and headed towards the hot springs. The fact that Mari was interested in some women didn’t mean that she was interested in Mila. Mila scowled into her towel pile. She was going to have to knock this off. 

She stalked back into the dining room, prepared to be the best friend that Mari had ever had and nothing more. That had nothing to do with the fact that she started scanning the room for the other woman before she’d even made it through the door.

She wasn’t expecting the other woman to grab her arm and march her back into the kitchen before Mila’d even seen her. 

“Look, I’ve never done this before.” Mari bit her lip, and Mila tried to prepare to be graceful about being told no. “It’s… Well, I. Look, I’m interested in you. If you aren’t interested in me, I’m good at being friends with people I’ve crushed on. I think you’ve been flirting with me, so if you meant it…” She paused long enough that Mila opened her mouth to answer, but Mari shook her head and kept going. “I’m concerned about the distance though, and the fact that I don’t speak Russian and you don’t speak Japanese. I’m also not sure… I never planned to date anyone.”

Mila glanced to make sure that the other woman was done this time before responding. “Wow, that wasn’t what I was expecting you to say at all.” She breathed out her relief and continued, “I’m interested in you too.” A pause, as she mulled over what Mari had said, and felt the adrenaline melt away down her body. She’d been so sure that she was going to have to prepare to hide her feelings, “However you’re comfortable with. We don’t have to do…” She paused to consider what she was offering. “I’d prefer that we agreed not to sleep with other people, but if you’d be more comfortable being something more informal than dating, I’d be alright with that.” She paused to take stock again and was pleased to note that it didn’t seem to be a lie. “I haven’t figured out yet what I’m doing next so the distance is… negotiable, to some extent, and,” she pulled out her phone and unlocked it, turning to she Mari the home screen, “I’ve downloaded some language apps to work on my Japanese.” 

She looked expectantly at the other woman, who started, helpless, to giggle. Mila joined in, bemused.

“Sorry.” Mari was snorting now, her face turning red, “I’m just… I can’t…” She shook her head and sucked in a couple of deep breaths. Mila waited as Mari relapsed once, twice, as she tried to explain what had set her off. Finally she seemed to get herself under control, although her face twitched oddly as she spoke. “I’m just. That was so simple. I expected it to be so much more difficult.”

Mila snorted too, relief flooding her. “Just imagine if all people were as straight-forward as you. What would there be to gossip about?”

That set Mari off again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it, the beginning of the end. (Compared to other main characters, Mila and Mari are practically open about their feelings, really. They certainly don't carry the baggage Yuri does or my version of Lilia.)
> 
> About Mari. I know that a lot of people have trouble believing that people could be virgins past a certain age, at least without being ace and sex-repulsed. (Thank you, Sherlock fandom, you taught me that much at least.) However, I don't think it's as difficult as the internet seems to think, especially if, as with my Mari, one is a woman concerned with feminism who thinks she is straight. It's tough if you're a person who both has trouble compromising and has strong feelings about the way men are allowed to treat women. She does have her parents' excellent marriage in front of her as an example of how it could be done, but I'm not sure that's enough, and where is she going to find a partner anyway? It looks in the show like supporting Yuuri is what she does for fun. Unless she went online for a boyfriend, but in a town that small... Anyway, that's my rationalizing of her virginity and so on.


	13. Thirteen: Katsuki Mari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mari tries really hard to be a good girlfriend right from the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I... I couldn't help but bring Georgi into this. I know a lot of people on here really like him. I personally find him creepy, but I chose a future career for him that left the question of his morality entirely aside. The worst we get is the same sort of laughing at him that Mila does in the Cup of China episodes. (We, I say, as if I'm a reader and not the writer...)

Mari stopped Viktor while his husband was teasing Mila. Some anecdote, she thought, about something that had happened at the rink.

“Vicchan,” she used her mother’s nickname for her brother-in-law, “what sorts of things do you skaters do once you’ve retired?”

Viktor blinked at her. “Different things. I choreograph, Yuuri coaches, Yura will probably coach when he retires. My friend Chris, you remember him, he’s organizing ice shows. I think he’s working to start up a partnership with Yuuri’s friend Phichit when Phichit retires. They want to expand into the Asian end of the continent.” He stopped to consider. “Stephane commentates. Seung-gil bought an ice rink. Our old rinkmate Georgi is a sort of… What’s it called, an ask Prudence? On the radio, Yuuri?” Her brother wore the sappiest look on his face as he turned. “Gosha is a,” he said something in Russian and Mila smirked. 

“An agony aunt, Vitya.” She turned her grin on Mari, who felt her face warming in the glow of it. “He’s very good at it. Or would be, if he could keep his own love life out of it.”

Mari snorted, as a safety valve, to stop herself exploding or crying or both.

Viktor nodded, turning back to her. “Yes, an agony aunt, why?”

Mari shrugged, mindful of Mila’s eyes on them. “No reason. Curious, now that we’re growing the population here in Hasetsu.”

Viktor’s gaze sharpened. She forgot, sometimes, how perceptive the man could be. He glanced at Mila. “That reminds me, Mila. Chris texted me today about you. He might have a job for you, if you’re interested.” 

Mila shrugged. “I have some money saved up. What’s the rush, Vitya?” And she smirked at Mari. “Weren’t we going to go use the hot springs once Vitya and Yuuri picked up their mutt?”

 

Mari followed her obediently, ignoring Viktor’s loud cries about the insensitivity towards his dog. 

It was only when they got to the hot springs that it became quiet. Mari bit her lip. It was one thing to flee Yuuri and Viktor into a place where they couldn’t go, and even to get some time alone with her new… What ever they were, but. But.

Mila waved a hand in front of Mari’s face. “Hey. I was serious, earlier. I’m playing this by ear. If something makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to do it.”

Mari blinked. “How did you… Not that I don’t want to, I do, I mean,”

Mila laughed. “We can bathe together if you’re OK with it. I just wanted to check, you’d gone all quiet.”

Mari nodded. “I’m… I’m OK with all of it, just.” She shrugged off her shirt to buy herself a few seconds to string her words together. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Mila nodded before pulling her own shirt over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. Mari swallowed. “We’ll go at your speed then.” She shrugged, her boob moving with her shoulder, and Mari yanked her gaze up. She could feel her face going red. Mila smirked. 

Mari scowled and finished undressing before stepping forward and touching the other girl’s chin. She wasn’t sure what game Mila was playing, exactly, but she’d never turned down a challenge before. 

It was Mila’s turn to swallow as she turned her face up to look at Mari. Mari leaned in, moving slowly as she decided how their faces would slot together. She could be quicker about it next time. She leaned in deliberately, just enough for her breasts to brush over Mila’s. Mila’s breath ghosted across Mari’s lips and Mari shivered. She was running this encounter, she reminded herself, and leaned down just far enough to catch Mila’s lips in her own.

She had read enough, watched enough TV, to have some idea how this part might go, even taking everything with a grain of salt. She hadn’t expected to react to it, in spite of that. She’d expected it to feel weird, to have that piece of her brain that she couldn’t shut off muttering a running commentary about ‘maybe tilt your head that way,’ and ‘gosh, your lips are chapped.’ Maybe even a perplexed, ‘This is just pushing my lips at her face.’ Instead, her lips brushed Mila’s and wiped her brain blank with the touch and the taste of the other woman. Mila’s jeans brushed her bare legs and crotch.

It was only when she pulled back for breath that she remembered that they had started out trying to get in the water, and she stumbled another step back. What if okaasan had come in? Not that her mother would care, but. It would be embarrassing, and that, like so much else, was a job that Mari was happy to leave to her sibling. 

“We were going to get in.”

Mila, who had been starting to frown, smiled and swooned dramatically. “Oh, the hot springs, my one true love!”

Mari giggled. “You’ll have to get the rest of your clothes off first.” 

 

When Mari’s mother finally joined them, Mila and Mari had made it into the water, stopping along the way to stare at each other, although neither one had touched the other again. Mari watched the long line of Mila’s neck as the other woman leaned her head back, and jumped when her mother spoke. 

“You always did jump in with both feet.”

Mari glanced at her mother, who was watching her watch Mila. She blushed and wished that she and Mila had discussed this part. “I don’t think you can say that anymore. Victor’s the one who moved halfway around the world on the basis of one drunken dance and a youtube video.”

Mila looked up. “I heard Vitya and youtube.”

Mari smiled. “My mom was… I was just reminding her of the reason Viktor waltzed into our lives.”

Her mother sighed and continued in Japanese as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “Just remember to invite your parents to the wedding.”

“Okaasan!” Mari was horrified, although she hoped that Mila would understand little enough that it wouldn’t matter. “There isn’t going to be a wedding. Not anytime soon, at least.”

Mila smirked. “I know that word. Phichit kept saying it, every time he started teasing Yuuri about getting married.” She turned to Mari’s mother. “Okaasan, I’m sorry, but I don’t think that we’re equipped to give you grandchildren any time soon.” She looked back at Mari. “We could get her a grandkitten, to match Stammi.”

Mari sucked in her breath. “Whoa, wait, I’m involved with a cat-person?” 

Mila blinked at her. “You’re a dog person?”

Mari knew that Mila prided herself on being loud and funny, but she was unprepared (as always) for the fondness to hit her, impacting her chest with a physical weight. She swallowed and managed, “Your honor, I’m afraid we have discovered irreconcilable differences in this relationship,” she met Mila’s eyes, “Isn’t that what they say in the movies?”

Mila splashed the water in a wave across Mari’s face. “Maybe we could compromise. You know, we breed tame foxes in Russia.” The smirk spreading across her face was full of mischief. “They’re somewhere in between, don’t you think?”

Mari choked, on the water or the statement she would never know. “No pet foxes. Don’t they cost hundreds of thousands of yen? We could just have a cat and a dog.”

Mila waved an airy hand. “I have hundreds of thousands of yen. I know how to save, and I don’t have relatives to take care of like others.”

Mari shook her head firmly. “No foxes. Save the yen until you find a job you like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter a lot. It's the reason why I kept going with this pairing in spite of the age difference. I just... I really love the dynamic I think they would have.
> 
> I also love Hiroko. I don't think I mention that often enough. The skaters' parents in this show are some of the best parents I've ever met. Hiroko and Toshiya are so SO lovely, and JJ's parents... That moment when one of his parents tells the other that they're greeting him with a smile, no matter the score... It gives me a lot of feelings guys. Accepting parents are such an important part of a world without homophobia, and they got it really right.


	14. Fourteen: Mila Babicheva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mari offered her a slow smile. “You can tell them whatever you like. Just let me know so I can back you up.” She paused, smiled. “Otherwise Yurio will come in demanding to know if we’re really planning to move to Russia and open a combination onsen/skating rink called Fire and Ice and adopt fifteen children and four big cats and I’ll say yes, and then it will turn out that you told him we were moving to Brazil and adopting an anaconda and opening a swimming pool filled with piranhas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first try at a chapter summary: These two are such excellent people. That's it, that's the summary. Just stick to the excerpts. God.

Mila caught Mari once they had dried off and pulled her into an alcove. 

“What- How much. If Yura asks, what would you be comfortable with me saying? Or Vitya, or your brother.”

Mari offered her a slow smile. “You can tell them whatever you like. Just let me know so I can back you up.” She paused, smiled. “Otherwise Yurio will come in demanding to know if we’re really planning to move to Russia and open a combination onsen/skating rink called Fire and Ice and adopt fifteen children and four big cats and I’ll say yes, and then it will turn out that you told him we were moving to Brazil and adopting an anaconda and opening a swimming pool filled with piranhas.”

Mila laughed. This woman really was perfect. “I’ll let you know whatever lies I expect you to back up, as long as you’ll do the same for me.”

Mari stepped forward and Mila tilted her head up automatically. She was already developing a Pavlovian response to being crowded by this woman.

Instead of reaching for her lips though, the other woman leaned towards her ear so that her lips just brushed it. “Tell them we’re running away to join the circus, and then pack and come to Tokyo with me for the weekend.”

The only answer Mila could search out in what was left of her brain fell out of her mouth without any filtering thought. “But it’s only Tuesday.”

“So we’ll take a weekend in the middle of the week.” Mari drew back far enough for Mila to see her wicked grin. Mila was so out-matched. And then Mari’s demeanor changed. “I… You could tell them that we’re dating if you want. It’s probably the easiest answer.”

Mila shrugged. “But you don’t want to date.”

Mari bit her lip. “It’s still easier. And other designations…” 

Mila had to agree. Friends with benefits was not what this was, aside from the fact that they were friends, and these were benefits. But the same could be said for Yuuri and Vitya, and the pair would never call themselves that. “What was it you said earlier? Involved? I like that. It’s got its own weight to it, but maybe not so much of the baggage of dating?”

Mari relaxed. Mila saw it happen, in the space of a single blink. “I like that. Yeah, we could be involved.” 

Mila smiled, reaching up to stroke a hand down Mari’s jaw. “I’m so lucky to be involved with a brilliant woman like you.”

Mari reached up to catch her hand. “I want you to know, it’s not that I’m not serious about you. It’s just that… Dating.” She loaded the word with contempt. “I read some feminist who said something about women’s sexuality being a ‘social institution of violence.’ The phrase stayed with me. So…”

Mila twisted to thread her fingers through Mari’s. “So we’ll fight back against crappy social institutions and make our own vocabulary to suit ourselves.”

Mari leaned in and kissed her. Deeper this time, more sure of herself, and Mila gave herself up to it. 

 

It wasn’t until she got home that she realized how late it was. Yura made a dismissive noise from the living room as she came in. He was ensconced in the armchair, curled around a book like a cat and clearly ignoring the book for Kenjirou. 

Kenjirou looked up and smirked. “Look what the cat dragged in.” Mila, who had been texting Mari on her way home, felt as light as a feather. 

“He’s been rubbing off on you Kenjirou,” she stopped herself forcibly before she could add, and neither one of you is getting off on it. Instead she changed the subject. “Mari and I are running away to join the circus tomorrow. If I don’t see you in the morning, I’ll write sometimes.” She fluttered her fingers at them and waited until she was in the hall and out of sight before waltzing herself in a tight circle. 

She heard Kenjirou say something questioning in Japanese and Yura respond flatly. Her suitcase was stored under Lilia’s bed. Most of her things were still in it, but for their joke to have the maximum affect, she thought it would be better to wipe herself away without a trace.

“What are you doing, Baba?” She’d underestimated Yura’s curiosity. 

She turned to sparkle at him. “Yura, she’s so lovely. I tried to talk her into one of those foxes – you remember? Ah, yes, I see that you do – but since we’re joining the circus I think maybe a tiger instead.” And then in Russian, because she couldn’t help it but didn’t want to actually be mean, “When is your boyfriend buying you a tiger? Or does he stop at tiger-printed sweatshirts?”

Yura rolled his eyes. “Seriously Mila, are you alright? You look… odd.”

That boy was too responsible for his own good. Mila patted him on the head. “I really am. Better than. I’ll think of you, caught in Yuuri’s merciless workout schedule, while we travel the world with my pet tiger and teach him to jump through hoops. If you get a call asking about our previous experience, I put you down as a reference.”

Yura took that as his cue to get out, giving her another exasperated noise and a tap on the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an older sister, just about the only moment I don't identify with Yuri P in canon is when Mila is teasing him. I love her and their dynamic so darn much.
> 
> Just the epilogue left! (I say, like the last couple of chapters were more plot than fluff.)


	15. Epilogue: Katsuki Mari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mari tried to control her voice. “I told you, Viktor. We’re running away to join the circus.”
> 
> “Tell him we’re getting a tiger.” Mila was smirking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it guys, last chapter. Thanks for coming along for the ride! Check out my other works if you liked it. The Lilia/Minako one at least has a very similar feel to it. (At least I think it does.) I loved writing this story, and I hope you had half as much fun reading it. (I feel like there's a line from canon I should be adapting here. Doesn't Yuuri say something to Viktor after an early competition about just hoping that people enjoyed watching him as much as he enjoyed skating the routine?)

Mari gave her mother their actual itinerary but texted her brother-in-law that she was running off to join the circus with Mila, sorry for the short notice, Hiroko had offered to watch the dog. She texted him as she and Mila were on their way to the train station and was amused when he immediately called her.

“Mari?”

“Vicchan.” She knew that he liked to be called Vicchan, but she never knew how her mother managed it without the pang every time that she said their old dog’s name. Viktor was a lovely man, but Vicchan had been a wonderful dog too.

“Mari, what are you two doing? I just ran into Yurio, he says that Mila left this morning with all her stuff.”

Mari tried to control her voice. “I told you, Viktor. We’re running away to join the circus.”

“Tell him we’re getting a tiger.” Mila was smirking. 

Mari gave her an unimpressed look and reported dutifully to her brother-in-law. “We’re getting a tiger. We figured since we had all that experience with the ice tiger of Russia…”

Viktor must have had her on speaker because she could hear Yurio swearing. Mila was smirking.

“Look, our train is boarding and we’ve got a lot of baggage, I’ll call you later, tell Stammi I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye and I’ll write when I can.”

“Wait, Mari, what?”

She ended the call, met Mila’s eye, and they started giggling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, in the word document there's a page break in the middle of that chapter that makes it look longer. It's a very short epilogue. Sorry.


End file.
